


Richard Armitage/Reader Imagines and Drabble Requests

by FizzyCustard



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy, Self-Esteem, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 12,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FizzyCustard/pseuds/FizzyCustard
Summary: A selection of Richard Armitage and reader insert drabbles requested by people during my time on Tumblr.





	1. Drabble One

**Imagine Richard telling your daughter how you both met.**

_Requested by buckyoakenshieldxo.tumblr.com_

 

Every night after dinner and your daughter, five-year old Amelia, always asked for ‘Daddy time’. Due to Richard working away for long periods of time, you and Amelia both missed him dearly. 

Richard would get down on the floor with her in the living room of the house you had recently brought in south London, or he would lie across her bed, and they would enter into their own world which only a daddy and daughter lived in. You would hear Amelia’s chuckle from down the hall as you washed up all the crockery from dinner, and then Richard’s deep voice would follow. 

Tonight and you decided to take a peek around the doorway of the living room and see what they were both up to. Yet again and Amelia had asked to watch a Pixar film, knowing they were Daddy’s favourites. You snuck to the doorway and peered in to see Richard sitting on the leather sofa with Amelia next to him, her head on his chest. 

“Daddy?” she asked in her sweet, high-pitched voice. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Richard replied, kissing her forehead. You knew that Richard idolised and worshipped the very ground his daughter walked on as he had yearned for a family of his own for years. 

“How did you meet Mommy?” 

“You ask me this every night before bed time,” Richard laughed. 

“I know but I like to hear the story….tell me,” Amelia said, grinning. 

You folded your arms and rested against the doorway, seeing how oblivious they were to your presence. 

“Alright, seeing as you asked so politely. On a day when Daddy wasn’t dressing up and playing someone else, he decided to see one of his friends. And his friend introduced him to a lovely lady. She was the best friend of Daddy’s friend’s wife. And that lady took Daddy’s breath away.” 

“Did you kiss?” Amelia asked, looking up at Richard and laughing harder. 

Richard blushed and chuckled in response. “You are being very cheeky, little one.”

“You did kissy kissy with Mommy.”

“It took me a while before Mommy allowed me to give her a kiss. She came to see me quite a lot while I was working and she became Daddy’s best friend. And then she came to work with me, travelling to lots of places.” 

“Do you love Mommy?” 

“Of course I do. We loved each other so much that we decided to have you.” 

“Do you love me as well?” 

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched your husband and daughter have such a beautiful heart to heart. 

Richard looked at his daughter, a lump in his throat. “That is a silly question to ask. You know that me and Mommy love you more than anything else in the world.”


	2. Drabble Two

**Imagine that you are rehearsing your singing for a show you are the lead in and your co-star is finding it difficult to keep to the correct key. Richard, who is working on The Crucible, is asked to help out.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

You began tapping your foot impatiently as your co-star found it difficult to remain in the correct key of the song you were both rehearsing. Your first show would be in a week’s time, and you were already becoming very anxious at the prospect. He had been warned by the producer of the show that if he could not perform to the required standards then his understudy would be contacted and take over the role permanently. You did feel bad for him as he rubbed his temples and sweat dripped down his brow. 

The guy who was on the piano, playing the main melody stopped suddenly as a brainwave hit him. “How about going next door and asking for the guy playing the main role in The Crucible? He’s apparently a decent singer.” 

You looked up and sighed. Any proposal would do right now; you hated the idea of having to then begin working with another singer and actor and developing a co-star relationship from scratch. That had always been one aspect of the job you disliked as you didn’t consider yourself a particularly social person. “Yeah, go on,” you replied, sighing again. 

Your co-star must have seen your response and apologised. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I’m slowing everyone down, and maybe I should just stand down and let the understudy take over. It’d be a better option than spending more time than is necessary on me to get me up to speed.” As you looked at the young man, who was only twenty two and straight out of drama school, you felt a pang of guilt for your reactions. 

“It’s me that should be sorry, mate,” you told him, offering a weak smile. “I’m getting anxious and impatient because I just hate being so close to opening night. My anxiety goes through the roof.” 

Five minutes later and the musician who had been assisting you re-appeared with a good looking, rather tall man beside him. “This is Richard,” he announced. 

“How can I help?” Richard asked. 

With a sly smile you couldn’t help but mentally undress Richard as you spoke and felt a blush rise on your cheeks as the indecent thoughts continued racing through your mind. “He can’t quite hit the correct note, and just needs a bit of help. Would you mind?”

“Of course,” Richard replied, then turned his attention to your co-star who looked as though he were about to break down into tears. 

You sat to the side of the rehearsal room, watching your co-star, the piano player and Richard all work side by side. Gradually you could hear a definite improvement in your co-star’s voice technique, and couldn’t deny that Richard was a very good singer as well. You certainly liked the idea of him singing you to sleep. 

After around twenty minutes of sitting to the side, you disappeared into the kitchen to prepare a coffee. You remained at the sideboard, pouring water into a mug and then turned to see someone standing behind you. “Oh, shit!” you called out, your heart leaping into your throat. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Richard said, reaching his hand out for emphasis. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m off now, but I plan to leave three tickets in the office so you can all come to our opening night tomorrow. And if he needs any more help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you. Thank you.” 

“Maybe I could come and watch you, too, when the show opens.” 


	3. Drabble Three

**Imagine you are to play an Elf in The Hobbit, however you are only 5′3 in height and have to practice against Richard who is 6′2. You have no idea how you will manage.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

You walked into the practice room, ready with your sword in hand which you would be using on the set when you began your fight scenes in a fortnight’s time. You had been paired with Richard who was playing Thorin Oakenshield, and this would be the first time you would officially make his acquaintance. 

Richard entered the room and approached you, smiling. “Morning. Ready?” he asked, grinning at you. But as he got closer you couldn’t help but stare open mouthed at his tall and imposing figure. How on earth were you supposed to pull this off? Richard, at over six foot, was to be playing a Dwarf, and you, at just over five feet, an Elf! The whole idea was moronic. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be….Gigantor,” you teased. 

“I’ll go easy on you, Munchkin,” he laughed. 

“Talk about Little and Large,” you chuckled. 

With no warning, you lifted your sword and whipped it around above your head, aiming it towards Richard who dipped down low, avoiding you. Feeling fired up and ready to prove yourself, you rushed forward, doing the same move again. 

“Easy there!” someone shouted from behind. “Fiesty, isn’t she? Sure they haven’t got the casting mixed up.” 

Laughing, you shouted an obscenity to the person behind you, who you later realised was Martin. 

By the end of the session, sweat was beading down your face. You brushed your hand down your face and then looked up at Richard who was smiling through tiredness. “You did well,” he complimented. Cheekily, he leaned in towards you. “Fancy a drink later?” 


	4. Drabble Four

**Imagine that you are mugged in an alleyway and the attacker leaves you injured. Richard comes to your aid as he finds you and gets you the help you need.**

_Requested by anonymous Tumblr user._

 

 

You shivered as you leaned against a wall which lead into a dark alleyway. Thunder cracked through the air above you and rain poured down on you. Someone had come up behind you, pushed you to the ground, hit you in the back and then stolen your shoulder bag. Upon your fall to the ground and you had twisted your ankle badly, hitting your head against the wall. Dizziness overtook you, until someone’s voice pulled you out of the daze which was floating around your head. 

“Are you alright?” a man asked who came dashing down the alleyway, soaking wet. He got down to you and rested his hand against your shoulder. “I’ll call the police and an ambulance.” 

“Will you stay with me?” you asked, trying to focus on the kind stranger through the rain. 

“Of course I will,” he replied. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled the emergency services. You still felt dizzy and there was a thumping sensation in your head where you had hit it on the wall. Your ankle also hurt. And you were cold, so bitterly cold. 

Once the man had finished his call, he bent down to you. “Can you stand up?” he asked, offering his arm to help you up. Awkwardly, you held onto him, but stumbled as the pain in your ankle got worse. You called out and fell against him. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him, feeling embarrassed. “Some man come behind me and took my handbag then pushed me down.”

“Well, the ambulance and police are on their way. What’s your name?”

You offered the man your name, giving him a smile through the pain. 

“I’m Richard. What were you doing out so late?” 

“I was walking back home from my friend’s flat. We lost track of time, and I haven’t got a lot of cash on me for a taxi so I decided to walk it instead.” 

Richard helped you out of the alley and sat you down on a wall which was facing the street and directly under a street lamp. “I would give you my coat but it’s soaked through now,” he said with a dry chuckle. 

“I’m really sorry,” you told him. 

“Do _not_ be sorry,” he told you sternly. “You needed help and I’m happy to offer it.” Just as he spoke those words you heard the sound of sirens coming down the street. 


	5. Drabble Five

**Imagine you are about to play your death scene with Richard and your nerves are getting the best of you. It's your first time acting with him after all. Richard comes to the rescue with his acting experience to calm you down.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

It was to be your final scene the following day, your death scene. For the last week and you had worked alongside Richard Armitage on a couple of scenes, a fellow actor who was extremely talented. You only wished you had half the talent that he possessed. 

Your time on Spooks had been fun, intense, hard work but rewarding. It had allowed you to take advice from other actors which you could take into your next project, that was if you had one. Spooks had been your first project out of acting school, coming to you as a fluke just as you graduated. 

Because your time on the set was only limited and you were only required for three episodes, you had been staying in a hotel in London, paid for by the BBC. 

That evening you read over your lines again and again in your room, terrified and apprehensive about how to approach the following day. Your scene would be alongside Richard mostly as your character was to be shot and then die in the arms of Spook, Lucas North. 

You tossed and turned that night, haunted by your worries of the day which was to follow. Finally, around three am and you descended into a deep sleep, which was ended abruptly by the sound of your alarm. Groaning, you got out of bed and waddled to the bathroom. 

The day began in a local coffee shop which was just around the corner from the set. You were required in make up in just over an hour, so your first stop was breakfast and a strong coffee. 

“Good morning,” a familiar voice came. 

You looked up from your paper to see Richard; his face was beaming with a bright smile. “Sleep well?” he asked. 

You chuckled dryly. “Not really. Been up half the night worrying about our scene. I just…Ugh…” you trailed off as you felt your frustration rise. 

“Why are you worried about it?” Richard asked in concern, sitting himself opposite you. “You take your time, focus on me as we go through…”

“But you’re more talented than me, Richard,” you replied. “Admit it, you are.” 

Richard sighed. “I think you’re very talented, but you’ve got to believe in yourself more. I know nerves get the better of you. I always feel it whenever I step foot onto set or on stage, especially on stage. You never get over that as an actor. It shows you want to up your game and learn. There’s nothing wrong with that. It just shows your heart is in it and you care about what you do.” 

You took a huge gulp of coffee and watched Richard offer you another smile. “You’ll be alright. Trust me,” he replied. “The first time I ever went on stage and I threw up twice before going out. All I did was worry about everyone else and how better they were than me. You need to stop comparing yourself to others; develop your own method, and remember to stay true to you.” 

Later that day, you lay in Richard’s arms, looking up at him and focused on him as you poured yourself into the character. You gasped, knowing if you really had been shot, you would be finding breath hard to come by. Your last line drifted off your lips.

“Cut!” 


	6. Drabble Six

**Imagine you are interviewing Richard but can’t stop giggling because of some of the fan questions. However, Richard is amused by it.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

Sat opposite you was none other than Richard Armitage in the flesh, and you had been asked to interview him. You had greeted him, trying to hide your nervousness, shaking his hand and offering him a seat. 

The cameraman stood waiting for the signal to begin whilst you flicked through some of the questions which had been posed by fans online, mainly from Twitter. 

You looked up to the cameraman and then at Richard. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes, when you are,” Richard replied, offering a smile. 

You proceeded to give your normal introduction, explaining who Richard was, listing some of his past filmography and then officially greeted him on camera. The whole time and your heart was hammering in your chest. Interviews rarely fazed you, but asking one of your favourite actors questions was going to be a challenge. 

“Right, lets get to the questions then, Richard,” you said, smiling into the camera, and then looked down to the sheet in front of you. 

The first question went smoothly as you asked Richard about his methods of getting in character. You then listened to his answer carefully, offering responses. Until you came to the second question which had been asked by a fan from Twitter and even had an attached picture. Instantly you began to giggle. “I’m so sorry,” you said, your shoulders arching up and down in your amusement. 

“What is it?” Richard asked, leaning across and looking at the sheet in front of you. 

But still you couldn’t stop laughing, and by now you could hear the cameraman chuckling and Richard began to follow suit. “What is it?” he asked again. 

You put your hand to your face, full guffaws taking over, and you offered him the sheet. There, in full colour and drawn, was a sketch of Thorin in drag. Beneath the picture was a list of questions regarding what Thorin’s dance routine and favourite songs would be to perform to. 


	7. Drabble Seven

**Imagine Richard playing with your hair in the morning, thinking you’re asleep and getting embarrassed.**

_Requested by sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com_

 

 

You woke to feel someone playing with your hair; a pleasurable tingling swept through your head as Richard’s fingers brushed your scalp and then caressed down to the ends of your strands of hair. Playfully, you kept your eyes closed, revelling in the sensations. 

The previous night had been the first time you had slept with Richard. You had been dating now about a month, and you had been visiting him often on weekends when he was on downtime from the set. Your friendship had blossomed quickly, slipping into romance territory with little to no effort. You both fit together so quickly, your conversations never running out and your need to be with close proximity of each other finally reaching a climax when he had kissed you, catching you off guard when you went to the cinema together four weeks prior. 

But you remained still, feeling his breath catch your cheek and his fingers continue to play with your hair. Then you felt a gentle kiss be placed against your temple, and this time you smiled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were awake,” Richard apologised, blinking quickly and looking away as you opened your eyes to see him resting over you. He began to move away, flustered. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you reassure, reaching up and cupping his cheek. 

His eyes met yours once more and he reciprocated the smile, his whole face filling with happiness and contentment. Then he leaned down and kissed you softly. 

 

 


	8. Drabble Eight

**Imagine you’re having a bad day at work, and are extremely angry. Richard has the perfect stress relief which you can’t decline.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

 

You threw your bag onto the sofa as you entered the flat you shared with Richard. You couldn’t help but growl angrily and drag your hand sharply through your hair.

“What’s the matter?” Richard asked, holding a tea towel and mug, obviously in the middle of washing up. 

“My manager is seriously pissing me off,” you seethed. “Constant breathing down my neck, belittling me in meetings and generally making me aware that he hates my guts.” 

“Go and sit down, take your shoes off and I’ll be with you in a minute,”Richard urged. “Get yourself settled.”

Richard had a heart of pure gold, often working longer hours than you, but still looking after you when you got in from work. Your job was as a secretary in a solicitor’s office, working nine to five hours, whilst Richard was currently finishing up filming a TV show called Strike Back. He could sometimes be away for days filming, or not coming home until the early hours of the morning. 

Even though you had Richard tending to you, you still couldn’t help but cry in frustration. Your manager, the head solicitor of the firm, was an arrogant prick who no one liked. His conceit and misogynistic attitude was driving everyone insane. 

“Hey, come here,” Richard cooed, sitting. beside you and pulling you into a warm embrace. You felt safe, loved and wanted as he rocked you gently. “You don’t have to keep standing this, angel. I’ve told you before, leave.”

“I can’t admit defeat and leave. I’d need another job!”

“I’ve told you before that I can support you until you find something else. In fact…” But you cut him off, your frustration rising. 

“I want to be responsible for myself and not rely on you, Rich.” You never even noticed the glass of wine on the table that he had brought as he silenced you, kissing you. his soft touch roamed up your blouse in his bid to calm you. 

“I love your fire,” he whispered. Then he looked into your eyes, smiling. “Trust me when I tell you that you’ll be okay. Do you trust me?” 

“You know I do,” you replied, feeling the frustration become arousal, rising to an intense need for this beautiful man before you. 

His nimble fingers caressed you, and your fire burned hotter until you moaned loudly, calling his name. You just wanted him to take you hard and send away all your worries and anger. And did he! 

Amongst kisses, pants and groans, you pounded against each other, rising higher and higher, until you hit the crescendo and fell away. All the stress and negativity of the day dissolved, sending you to a place of pure bliss. 

As you came, Richard buried his head against your neck and groaned your name, shuddering around you. Together, you both fell down onto the sofa, lacing your bodies as one. Richard kissed you gently, and you remained lips together for a short while, until he pulled away. 

“I have something to tell you,” he said, a smile erupting on his face. “But I first have a question.” 

For a split second you became apprehensive, not sure what he was about to ask. “Okay,” you said simply. 

“Will you be prepared to move to New Zealand with me?” 

You exploded with sheer happiness and shock. “Oh, my God! You got the part! I am so proud of you!” You threw your arms around Richard. “Yes, you know I’ll come with you.” 

“Looks like you’ll be leaving your job a lot quicker than you first thought,” he added with a chuckle.


	9. Drabble Nine

**Imagine announcing to Richard that you're pregnant**

 

 

You and Richard had only been married five months and had begun trying to conceive as soon as you had tied the knot in Wellington, New Zealand, after the premiere of An Unexpected Journey. Your whole relationship with Richard had been a whirlwind, beginning back in 2010 after you had been introduced to him through your best friend who was a publisher. At that time you had been working in a book shop in England, trying to make ends meet whilst living with your parents. Every weekend and you had travelled to London, meeting with Richard in between his shooting time on Spooks and Strike Back. Then he had been offered the part of Thorin in The Hobbit. Initially you stayed in New Zealand for stints, but after a near break up, Richard proposed to you, asking you to stay for the remainder of the shoot. 

You walked into the New York apartment, grinning to yourself as you held the positive pregnancy test in your hand and the letter confirming your first ultrasound scan. 

“Rich?” you called. “Can you come here, please?” You took off your jacket and stood in the living room, waiting for him. 

“Sorry, I was just replying to e-mails and reading that script which came yesterday. Everything alright?” he asked, stepping out of the bedroom. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you watched him approach. He raised his eyebrow. 

“You alright?” he asked, seeming to be amused by your expression. 

“I’ve just come back from the doctors,” you told him. “And I have a present for you.” You watched Richard’s eyes become questioning, but as soon as he took the pregnancy test and letter from your hand, you knew that he realised with no more words spoken what was happening. 

He read the letter, grinning as he saw your name, _Mrs (Y/N) Armitage_ in print, and then the date you were scheduled for your scan. “Angel,” he whispered, his blue eyes filling with tears. “I never imagined how I’d ever feel. Is this even real?”

You took Richard’s hands, noticing them beginning to shake. “I can guarantee it’s all happening, Rich. I’m approximately eight weeks, but the scan will be able to tell me for definite and give us a due date.”

“I’m just trying not to break down,” Richard laughed, tears almost falling down his cheeks.

“If you want to cry, then cry,” you replied. “I know how much you’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m glad that I can make you happy like this.”

“And, are _you_ happy?”

“You know I am,” you beamed. “Terrified of it all, but still so happy that our family is growing.”


	10. Drabble Ten

**Imagine dating someone because you feel you'll never have a chance with Richard**

 

 

****

You had been seeing a guy you worked with now for a few months, and you knew in the deepest depths of your heart that you had no intentions of your relationship ever going anywhere. He was kind enough, very introverted and a little socially awkward, which seemed to fit well with your geeky side, but he lacked the adventurous streak that you were so badly yearning for. He was happy going to the cinema every Friday, listening to music at your house and just taking things slow. You wanted romance, a thrill and someone who would sweep you off your feet. 

In fact you had been chatting with your best friend only the day previously, the very person who had introduced you to one of your close friends, Richard. Now Richard, on the other hand, was someone who you greatly admired and thought about often. Sometimes at work, while you were taking inventory and you would day dream in the stock room, wondering what Richard was up to with his filming schedule. You both text daily and you had even stayed up until after midnight, laughing about the events of that day or discussing personal matters close to your hearts. You had never had that with your current boyfriend. 

You sat on your bed that evening, your journal open at a blank page. The words would not come, instead tears did. The pain of living a lie with a man who you had no feelings for was crippling you. And you were doing all of this for one main reason: you felt that Richard would never look at you twice in such a manner as attraction. He only saw you as a close friend and nothing more. 

Suddenly your phone rang and Richard’s name appeared on the screen, flashing boldly as a classic rock tune played. “Hello?” you answered, grinning. In that moment you temporarily forgot your pain and allowed Richard’s baritone voice to curl around you and caress your very soul. _That voice_. And the day dreams you often had of his large, gentle hands trailing down your body. His lips on yours; your bodies fitting together. It would only ever be a dream. 

You remained quiet as Richard said his normal hello and apologised for not calling you earlier. “Are you alright? You’re quiet,” he enquired. 

You closed your eyes and sighed. “Um, yeah, I’m fine, Rich. Just a bit tired. Had a long day.”

“Are you sure?” Richard asked. “I’ve been worried about you lately.” 

You felt something rise in your chest at his words, a hope and a fluttering sensation which always made itself known when you saw his handsome face or heard his breathtaking voice. 

He continued talking as you remained quiet, unable to speak. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your nerves were beginning to rise again, rendering you speechless. 

“I don’t want to pry into your personal life, but I know you’re not happy. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice, and it all started when you got with the bloke you’re with now. I should probably mind my own business, but I care about you…God, so much more than you realise. I want you to be okay, and I want you to see how beautiful you are.” 

Was he really saying this to you? Richard has always tried to dispel your negativity whenever you were critical of yourself, but he had never been so forthright in his opinion of you like today. How could Richard find you beautiful? You were slightly overweight, mediocre in your looks, nothing spectacular like the actresses who he crossed paths with daily. You were normal in every sense of the word and only deserved a man who would keep you confined to the rut you were currently living in. 

“I’m not…” you began, your chest finally allowing you to speak. 

“You _are_. Stop with putting yourself down. I just know you’re not happy, and I want to see you out there being the best you can be, showing the world that amazing side of you which I know is there.” 

“No, I’m not happy, Rich,” you said suddenly, the words tumbling out of your mouth in quick procession. “There’s a gaping hole in me and I felt by going out with someone that it would heal me, but there’s only one thing that can heal me. And I can’t have it.” 

“What’s that? Talk to me, angel,” Richard reassured. He used his pet name for you which you loved. Never a day passed when he didn’t call you ‘angel’. 

“I can’t…” You sobbed. “I’m sorry…” you just about managed to utter down the phone. 

“Angel, talk to me. I will never walk away from you, I promise. I love you too much to walk away…Fuck! I shouldn’t…”

“As in a friend, right?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

Richard sighed. “No, not just as a friend. I want to be there with you, kissing your tears off your face, telling you in person how stunning you are in every way. I’m _in_ love with you.”


	11. Drabble Eleven

**Imagine waiting to see Richard after you have admitted your feelings to each other over the phone**

_Requested by ealasaid@tumblr.com_

 

 

The last week had been absolute torture. After your admissions on the phone to Richard about not being happy in your current relationship, the whole atmosphere with him had changed drastically. He had admitted being in love with you, and now you had to wait for him to come home. Richard was currently in the States filming, and was only a week away from finishing up his current project. 

Your phone rang. It was Richard. “Hey, you,” you said, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. 

“I can’t stand this anymore,” he said, his voice low and full of frustration, but with a slight hint of lust, which caused a shudder of anticipation to rack up your spine. You lay on your bed and closed your eyes, still grinning to yourself. 

On the night that you had told Richard that you reciprocated in his feelings towards you, you had called your boyfriend, breaking up with him straight away. And since then he had been trying to contact you to get an answer, but you could not being yourself to give the real reason as to why you had walked away from the relationship. 

“Only two more days, Rich,” you told him, biting your lip as you awaited his response. 

“Two days of complete damn torture,” he replied. “Hearing your voice is unbearable. It was always difficult for me, but now that we’re together, I just need to be with you. To kiss you for the first time…”

As he trailed off, you instinctively knew where his thoughts were heading. And you couldn’t deny the fact that your thoughts had delved in that direction many times when concerned with Richard. Heat was stretching down from your stomach, winding its way towards the juncture between your thighs. Richard had always been a gentleman, only ever delving into sexual conversation when you had instigated it; he would never just dive into it himself. And that was one thing about him you adored. He was a gentleman through and through. 

You could feel yourself beginning to drift off as the hour struck two am, hours after you first accepting the call. “It’s late for you, angel. I’ll let you go. Get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

“I love you, Rich. Keep safe.”

“And I love you, angel. I’m waiting for you.” 

                                                 *********************

It was finally the day that you were to meet Richard and spend time with him; he had now finished his shoot back in America and was heading to England to see you. He had called through a week earlier, booking a hotel for you both in London. The whole day seemed to be seeping past you so slowly, a minute becoming an hour. The train journey was long, hot and frustrating. There was a screaming baby in the seat behind you, meaning that you couldn’t even concentrate on your music. Richard couldn’t text you as he was flying at around 30,000 feet above the Atlantic, coming in on a United Airlines flight. So boredom set in fairly quickly. 

By the time you had made it into London, having taken the Underground to the hotel, you were beat. The hot, summer air was humid. You felt sticky and tired as you checked in the hotel. 

For a short while you unpacked a few of your belongings for your week stay in London. Your phone remained on the bedside table, waiting for Richard’s call to say he had landed and you could meet him at the Underground train station. The hotel he had booked was very luxurious with a mini bar, ornate decorations on the walls, and large, beautiful lamps on each of the bedside tables. Richard had even mentioned you possibly going back to his New York apartment once you had spent a week in London. 

Your phone finally rang an hour later, just as you had finished showering and got re-dressed. 

“I’ve just landed, and I’m coming through the airport. I’ll be at the station in about half an hour. I cannot wait to see you, my angel,” he told you. 

“I’ll be waiting for you,” you told him. “I love you.” 

You dragged your shoes on, grinning to yourself and raced out of the door, almost forgetting your key card in your dash. And the whole time to the station you kept smiling, chuckling to yourself. But at the same time you were nervous, your hands shaking and your heart racing. 

You waited at the station patiently, breathing in and out slowly, concentrating on your inhales and exhales, trying to keep calm. People were rushing around in all directions, trailing luggage behind them, the warm air circulating and causing you to sweat again. 

Until you _finally_ saw him. 

You stood up tall, pressed on your tiptoes so he could see you. And then he noticed you. He grinned, breaking into a laugh. That face always made you weak at the knees. 

“Angel,” he cried out, coming towards you. 

And in those moments, neither of you cared who was watching. Richard dropped the handle of his suitcase, not bothered in the slightest as it tipped onto the floor. And he rushed at you, his lips seeking yours. 

You could feel his hands cupping your face and you heard a groan escape his lips. “You’re finally mine,” he whispered, breaking from the kiss just long enough to look upon you and know that none of this was a dream. 


	12. Drabble Twelve

**Imagine your first week with Richard after you have admitted being in love with each other**

 

 

As you and Richard entered the hotel room, after you going and meeting him from the Underground station where he had come from after disembarking from a flight back from America, you flew at each other. The walk back from the station had been absolute hell; you kept looking at each other, hand in hand, wanting to finally show your love for each other physically. 

Within a short space of time you were on the bed, Richard over you and you felt him enter you for the first time. He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin and allowing his hands to venture over your breasts and down to your hips. “Angel,” he groaned. The passion between you that afternoon was incredibly intense, so much so that you made love three times before finally settling down side by side, curled in each other’s arms. 

Richard kept watching you, his blue eyes studying you, and the whole time he was smiling. “What?” you asked, chuckling at him and rising up on your arm. Your other hand cupped his cheek. 

“I just can’t believe I finally have you,” he said softly. 

“I’m nothing special, Rich,” you said, feeling your insecurity swell again, that same insecurity which had kept you from breaking up with your ex for a few months. There was a small part of you which was still living in complete disbelief, thinking that all of this was just some kind of elaborate joke. 

Richard sat up, the bedsheets pooling in his lap. He looked at you and the smile disappeared, his face becoming saddened. “You’re incredibly special to me, and you always will be. I have something for you.”

Richard got up from the bed and began unzipping his suitcase. You couldn’t help but appreciate his naked form from behind and grin to yourself. 

“I know you’ve wanted it for quite some time,” he replied, handing you a box. 

You took the box from him, furrowing your eyebrows and then you opened the box carefully. It was just slightly bigger than the palm of your hand. Once inside you pulled aside the tissue paper and picked out a gold bracelet which had hanging from it lots of Disney character charms. This very piece of jewellery had been something you had had your eye on for at least three years, always hoping someone would buy it you. Your ex had never acknowledged your want for the piece, ignoring your subtle hints just before your birthday two months prior. “I wanted to get it you earlier, but I didn’t want to step on your ex’s toes, and now that we’re together I just went and got it.” 

Tears welled in your eyes and you looked up at him. “Thank you so much. I love you,” you wept, pulling him into an embrace. 

                                                                                                          **********************************

Every day you and Richard did something different, enjoying the sights of London, going for regular meals and began discussing your possible future together. Richard had mentioned you going to New York with him for a short stint and maybe joining him on his next project. 

One afternoon you were sat in one of the many local parks of London, enjoying an ice cream each and watching the people walk by; parents with babies in prams, dogs being walked, joggers, teenagers skating or riding their bikes. 

Richard sat on the bench next to you, his arm stretching across the back behind you. Your left hand was resting on his thigh. “I know this is all forward,” Richard began. “Asking you to come back to New York with me, but I just don’t want to miss out on anything. Being friends was hard enough, and us managing to spend time with each other, but we’ve got to make the most of what we have now.” 

You looked at this beautiful man before you, thanking whoever was above for giving him to you. Richard calmed you, made you feel wanted and gave you a zest for life that you had never felt before. You had made love at least twice each night since you had been together in London, your bodies fitting together so perfectly and syncing as though you were made to be one. 

That evening and you ordered a pizza in at the hotel, lying across the bed, watching crappy Friday night television. Despite Richard being an actor and travelling all over the world, he still enjoyed home comforts and the simple things, like being with the person he loved, watching rubbish TV and eating junk food. 

By the time your week was coming to an end, you began discussing your next move. The following morning would be your check out, and it would be from here you would either stay with Richard or return home for a stint and then meet with him again. But you had already booked all of your annual leave for that year in six months, all of it being time spent with Richard. Your humble job as a retail assistant in a book shop would come to an abrupt end if you tried to get any more time away from work. 

“I can’t keep having time off work, Rich. I have no annual leave left,” you told Richard who was sat on the bed, drinking a cup of coffee. You paced the room, back and forth towards the window and then back to the door. “And it means seeing _him_ at work as well.” Seeing your ex was not something you particularly liked the thought of. He had already been texting you daily since your break up, wanting to know the reasons why, but you had been too much of a coward to reveal the reasons. Your ex had never even known about Richard as you had been too scared of the prospect of jealousy and allegations creeping in. 

You stood by the window and looked down at the people going about their business. Even when you were thrust into such an exciting time, and finally felt you were living the living you had always dreamed of, there was still a catch. You couldn’t just up and leave your job or request more time off to be with Richard. 

You felt Richard’s strong arms wrap around you from behind, curling around your waist. “Move in with me,” he whispered. 

“What?” you asked, pulling from his grip and spinning around on your heel. “Rich, we’ve been together a _week_!”

“It’s insane, I know, but I want to spend as much time with you as I can. We’ve been friends for almost a year, and I need you with me. Move in with me to my flat in New York. Quit your job and come with me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fucking hell, Rich. Talk about quick. What will people think? It’s just….” you trailed off, not believing what your ears were hearing. Move in with Richard? So quickly? 

“Don’t worry about what other people think. This is the critical point when we need to spend time together, and I don’t know if I could walk away and leave you so many miles away. Please, just say yes.” 


	13. Drabble Thirteen

**Imagine moving in with Richard**

 

 

The last two weeks had been a complete whirlwind of activity. You had quit your job as soon as you got back from your week in London with Richard, and had begun packing up a lot of your belongings. Some of it would stay in storage with your parents, some would be given to your family, but the important things would go with you and be shipped to New York. 

Richard had been kind enough to help you with packing, spending a few days at your parents’ house where you had been residing the last few years due to your lack of financial stability. At first your mother had nearly had a full blown row with you, telling you how ridiculous you were being for moving thousands of miles to be with a man you had only just started going out with. Gradually, over a couple of days she had warmed to the idea, especially after meeting with Richard himself. Both of your parents were surprised at the gentleman who had turned up on their door step, wishing to take their daughter away to America. 

You had said your farewells to your family at a small gathering, sharing drinks, take away food and happy memories. You had kissed your siblings in turn and their children. And then on the day you were to fly, you embraced your parents, thanking them for everything they had helped you with and you kissed them both, promising to stay in touch and visit when you could. 

But the very thought of the wide open door ahead of you, made shivers of anticipation and excitement rack through you. The prospect of such an adventure was something you had never dreamed of before. 

On the first day in the apartment, you walked into Richard’s bedroom and began putting the select items of clothing away that you had brought with you in a suitcase. Then Richard pulled you away from the task and made love to you. 

Little by little your items began to arrive. It was mainly your clothing, shoes, your favourite books and music. Richard even brought an extra bookcase for the bedroom where you could put out your books, CDs and trinkets. The right hand side of his closet was now yours, and your laptop was positioned on his desk next to the main computer in the spare bedroom. The apartment began taking on more of your personality. Framed photos of your family and of you and Richard together were put up in the living room next to the new lamp which had a patchwork design light shade (definitely your finishing touch!) The bathroom now had more perfumes, hair products and some make up on the shelving next to the sink. 

Your first grocery shop was the most exciting thing of all. You walked down the aisles with a trolley, grinning at all the choice of foods in front of you. Richard laughed at your enthusiasm for canned goods and pulled you along playfully towards the fine wines. 

Evenings always consisted of you watching television whilst Richard looked over scripts and began preparation for his next role. You were now used to him spending a few hours before bed on his own, researching and writing. You were quite happy to let him do what he needed to whilst you remained comfortable, wearing your slippers, tucked on the sofa and flicking through the channels. You had already been to some of the tourist areas of New York during the day, wondering through the magic of the city that never sleeps. So evenings remained your wind down time. 

By the end of the third week, it was time for Richard to leave for a couple of months in order to begin a new project. You both sat wrapped up together on the evening before leaving and he kissed your head. “I’m so glad you said yes to moving in. I couldn’t imagine not having you with me now,” he told you, gripping you tight. 


	14. Drabble Fourteen

**Imagine dating Richard, at at first are concerned about the age gap, then you realise you could not be any more right for each other**

 

 

You could feel the embarrassment and sadness radiating from Richard as you both sat down in the restaurant where he had brought you. Upon entering the restaurant and a nice old man had commented on your skirt, saying how lovely you looked. But then went on to say how pretty Richard’s ‘daughter’ was. You had smiled at the man, taken Richard’s hand and said, “He’s not my dad.” 

“Don’t let it get to you,” you told Richard as you both sat down opposite each other in the corner of the restaurant. You didn’t have to be psychic to see that the comment from the old man had upset Richard; he couldn’t look you in the eye and his usual smile had disappeared. 

“It’s not getting to me,” he lied, his words curt and to the point. 

You knew that the age gap between yourself and Richard should not have been an issue. You had known each other now for a few months, having met while you were on holiday in New York. It had all begun as mere coincidence when he  was behind you in a shop and picked up an item you dropped, and then you had seen him again whilst walking through Union Square towards Barnes and Noble. 

After your second encounter in New York, he had asked for your number and you both met up again before you left to head home, going for a drink and meal. Then he had kindly paid for you to go out to him to the States, and had come in to be with you also. Your time together meant alternating between England and the States, despite Richard being English himself, but his work was mainly in the States and his apartment in New York. 

You were fifteen years his junior, and at first you didn’t care, but now that comments had been made assuming you to be his daughter, and it was upsetting you, mainly because it was embarrassing Richard. This was the second time in the last three weeks that someone had thought you were family. You could feel his negativity washing towards you across the table, and you reached out, taking his hand. “It doesn’t matter about age. I love you so it shouldn’t…”

“I said it’s not bothering me,” Richard snapped. 

“But it is. I can see it written all over your face. I feel just as bad as you because if something upsets you then it upsets me.” 

You both ate and drank in silence that evening, until you exited the restaurant. There were few words if any between you. In the taxi and you tried to snuggle up to Richard, but he just sat with his back straight, staring out the window. In exasperation you pulled away and once the taxi had stopped, you got out and walked on ahead, ignoring his bad mood. 

When back in the hotel room you approached Richard, looking up at his tall form as he was a clear foot taller than you. “Come and sit down. I want to talk about this,” you told him. 

“Well, I don’t,” he snapped. 

“I’m not one for ultimatums, but I’ll leave right now if we don’t talk about this. And I’ll go walking the streets of London if I have to. Please, stop shutting yourself off and talk to me.” 

“I should not be having people telling me I look like your dad. It’s embarrassing and degrading,” Richard snapped. “I worry about the way I look anyway when I’m on camera; I’m constantly thinking about my age and if people will still employ me.” 

“But that’s work, Rich, not our private life. People thinking you’re my dad should not have impact on your work because it’s me they’re referring to. I have a lot of people think I’m younger than I actually am, so it’s not you, it’s me. If anything people could think I’m immature.” 

“I remember when we first met and I was terrified of asking for your number because I thought you’d think bad of me because of my age,” Richard admitted. “It’s quite an age gap.” 

“And does that make us any less good for each other? Does it make us love each other any less?” you asked, taking his hand in yours. “The only people in this relationship are you and me, and if we’re alright with it then fuck everyone else. Mind my language.” You chuckled as you swore. “But I do mean that. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. And how old do you think you look anyway? I still think you’re mighty fine for a man in your forties.” 

Richard laughed and curled his arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss.


	15. Drabble Fifteen

**Imagine you and Richard are friends and he gets jealous when you talk to other men on a dating app**

 

 

Richard had come to see you for the weekend on his downtime from a shoot he was doing. You both planned to get some food and then head to the cinema and watch one of the newest releases. Richard had been adamant that he would watch anything as long as he wasn’t in it. 

You made both of you a cup of coffee, your radio playing away in the corner of the room. It was the Kerrang! rock channel. “So how’s the shoot coming on?” you asked, pouring hot water into the mugs. 

“We’re hoping to be done and dusted in the next two weeks, so then I can have a bit of a break,” Richard replied, offering you a smile. That smile always made you weak, but of course he would never look at you in such a manner. Richard was far too sophisticated for the likes of you. Your wardrobe consisted of a lot of jeans, band T-shirts, Converse pumps and leather jackets. You were a rocker through and through, highlighted by your half shaved hair and tattoos. Richard, on the other hand, loved literature, working out regularly and wouldn’t want to date a rock chick. 

Your phone suddenly chimed. It was another message from a guy you were chatting with on a dating app. He was very similar to you, enjoyed rock music, concerts and seemed fairly easy going. “Sorry,’ you told Richard. “I’m just chatting with a bloke online. He seems really nice. We’re on about meeting up.” 

“Oh, really?” he asked, seeming to be caught off guard. You immediately noticed a change in his demeanour; his eyes seemed to dart away from you and his jaw clenched. 

Richard became quiet very quickly, looking as though he just wanted to get out of the room. “Are you okay?” you asked. 

“Yeah, fine,” then he offered a fake smile. 

The next day and the whole scene played out again; you mentioned the same man you were talking to and then told Richard that another man had messaged you. “Look at him!” you laughed, showing Richard the photo of your newest online match. The man was dressed up as a viking, obviously a keen LARPer. 

“Funny,” Richard replied, unimpressed by the man in front of him on your phone. 

“Richard, what’s the matter? I know something is bothering you. And it’s to do with me messaging people. Why is it bothering you?” you asked, becoming defensive. “Can’t I talk to men? It’d be nice to actually meet someone who’s nice and not a complete arse.” 

Richard looked down at your last sentence and you saw his jaw clench again. 

“What the hell is wrong?” you cried out. “Have I got to ask your permission to message people? Does it offend you?” 

“Yes, it does fucking _offend_ me because I want to be with you!” Richard shouted back. 

“Oh, come on. This is a damn joke. You don’t like me,” you spat angrily. 

“If I didn’t like you, would I do this?” he growled and rushed at you, cupping your cheek and kissed you. Your kiss deepened and you felt him embrace you, causing you to sink into him. 


	16. Drabble Sixteen

**Imagine breaking up with Richard**

 

 

You idolised Richard through and through. You had been going out together now for just over a year, and in that time you had had to travel constantly to see him, not that you minded seeing different places, but you wanted to be comfortable and in one place with the man you loved. His job was becoming an issue, and you felt selfish for even considering bringing it up with him. Richard’s love for his work was apparent in everything he did, and sometimes it made you feel like second best in his life, and you would never come close to reaching the top place in his priorities. With Richard now being in his forties and his career only having just reached a peak, he was adamant to keep going and grab hold of every opportunity he could. And right now it seemed as though he would gladly sacrifice his relationship with you for those opportunities. In your job, working as a retail assistant in an electronics shop, you had almost faced disciplinary for taking too much time off work to visit Richard. You had put your job on the line for him, but would he do that for you? 

But you knew you had to draw the line somewhere. Not only the issue with work, but you knew that Richard rubbed shoulders with beautiful actresses daily, women who had so much more talent and good looks than you could ever dream to possess. The whole idea of him being around these beauties made you feel inferior, crushed and deflated. Your mother kept telling you that you deserved amazing things, and to stop keep comparing yourself to others, but that was the way your life had always been; every single woman you met and you compared yourself to them, highlighting your flaws and drawing back further into the shadows. So, what on Earth had Richard initially seen in you? 

You spoke with Richard that night over the phone. He was currently in Ireland shooting a film called Pilgrimage, which he had been very enthusiastic about; he’d discussed the script with you, going over character motivation and music playlists to help him find the emotion and inspiration behind the man of Raymond de Merville whom he was playing. His phone reception had been very temperamental whilst being out in the middle of nowhere filming, but he had tried his best to remain in contact. It had been three days now since you had last spoken to him. 

Like he usually did, he wanted to know how you were first before he began divulging the day’s events in regards to himself. 

You sighed, rubbed your temple and sat down on your bed. “I need to talk to you, Richard, and it’s not going to be easy.” 

“Oh?” he answered simply. You felt the tension begin to rise over the phone line, and you felt tears prickle your eyes painfully. 

You began to cry. “I’m sorry,” you wept. 

“Sweet, what’s the matter? Talk to me, please,” Richard begged. You could hear the line cracking, his signal ready to give out. 

“I can’t be with you anymore, Richard,” you said simply, feeling a huge tidal wave of anguish grip you suddenly at those words. Nausea washed over you, threatening to bring up everything in your stomach. Thumping set up a steady pace in your temples. 

“W….why?” Richard stuttered. “I don’t understand….” His voice trailed off as interference came onto the line. 

“Don’t ask me to explain, Richard, because I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t deserve you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his angry voice came back. “I think I should at least have an explanation as to why you think this is best for us.” 

“I can’t. Because you’ll hate me.” 

“I could never hate you,” Richard replied. His voice was becoming full of desperation now and slightly higher pitched compared to its normal baritone level. “Stop talking like this…” His voice drifted back and forth again with the bad signal. 

“I’m sorry, Rich. We’re done.” You finalised your relationship with him with those two words ‘we’re done’, so blunt and to the point. They may have been blunt but their sharpness cut through you. 

Richard still kept on pleading with you, his voice cutting in and out of the call. 

“Please…….why…….love…..you.” You tried to piece together what he was saying, but his two last words shocked you to the very core. “Marry me.” 

Then the line went completely dead. 

 


	17. Drabble Seventeen

**Imagine Richard is frantic to talk to you after you broke up with him and turned down his marriage proposal**

(Direct follow on from previous drabble)

 

Richard had tried to call you numerous times, leaving voicemails and text messages. Every time you ignored him and it crippled you more; you knew you loved Richard and had done from very early on into your relationship. But you couldn’t carry on feeling like second best in this relationship, second best to his career. You knew that Richard’s career was just beginning to pick up and he had film and stage offers coming to him constantly. Sometimes you had even read over scripts with him. 

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Your phone rang again, and you knew it was him. Juggling your own job, meeting up with Richard in London and expecting some kind of ‘normal’ relationship was causing cracks, and slowly you had felt yourself falling through those cracks, slipping through and becoming more and more unhappy. Now he had thrown a whole new tension into the mix and asked you to marry him. How did he expect you to even keep all of this up? 

You had two new text messages from him along with a missed call. 

_Please just listen to me. I’m begging you. I don’t want to discuss this over texts. Call me. I love you._

The second text message shook you again. Those words. The words which hit you straight in the chest, making you gasp loudly. 

 _I’m serious in my question. Will you marry me? I can’t walk away from you. I need you. Travel with me. Move in with me._  

You lost control at those words and felt your lungs burn and your heart beat faster. And you wept. Were you finally on the cusp of what you wanted? 

With shaking hands you dialled out to Richard, and he picked up after only two rings. “Thank God,” he cried out down the line. “I miss and love you.” 

“Please don’t ask me to marry you just to put all of this right, Richard. I want it to be a serious question…”

He cut you off. “It is. I couldn’t be any more serious. Now talk to me, angel, and tell me why you felt you needed to go down this road. I need to know you’re okay.” 

You took a deep breath. “I can’t. I’m selfish, and I want too much from you that you’re not prepared to give.”

“Without knowing what you want, how do you know I can’t give it? You’ve never spoke about it. How do I know?” 

“I….I want a normal relationship with you. I want to feel special, wanted and needed…not second best to your job.”

Richard sighed. “I had a feeling this was what was upsetting you. And that’s why I asked you to move in with me and travel with me. I love my job, angel, but I love you, and you would never be second best. I just ask that you’re prepared to walk this road with me, and we can have a future together. Get married, and a family if you want one, that is. I want us to be together full time.”

This was the first time that you had spoken so openly about what you wanted, and hearing Richard admit that he wanted the same as you caused you to grow weak. You smiled against the phone, holding back tears, your hands still shaking. Then you spoke, “I’ve always wanted a family, Rich. I want to be a mom one day….and I want that with you.” 

Richard’s voice grew soft, almost as if he was trying not to break down. “Then we’ll have it. You’ve always known I want children, and I want that with you as well. To make this an official proposal, angel, will you marry me?”

You grinned, unable to contain yourself and laughed down the phone, crying loudly, “Yes!”


	18. Drabble Eighteen

**Imagine having sex with Richard in full Thorin costume**

 

You hadlost count of how many times the sets had taken your breath away. Richard grabbed your hand playfully and guided you around one of the sound stages, grinning to himself. He was still in complete costume and wig, which he knew full well turned you on. In fact, you had commented on a couple of occasions now about how you wanted to make love to him whilst in costume. You’d been allowed to watch him filming at the Stone Street studios, and stood in complete awe of everything that surrounded you. 

Most of the cast and crew had left the set for the night, leaving only a couple of people milling around, completing maintenance on the cameras, green screens and sound systems. You could hear them talking behind some of the wooden screens, until you fell silent as you stood in front of the all too familiar, round, green door of the Bag End set. 

You looked up at Richard and laughed at him. “Are we allowed in?” you asked. 

“I have no idea; probably not, but I want to take you in anyway,” he chucked. 

You walked inside, moving on ahead of Richard and dropping his hand. You twirled around, your mouth open in amazement and your eyes wide. “My God,” you whispered, studying every small prop that you could see. Every space seemed to be occupied with something, from wooden trinket boxes, to baskets of fruit, to jugs and leather bound books. 

Richard drew his arm around your waist and pulled you into a kiss, catching you off guard. He had been waiting to hold you all day, and now wanted your attention. True, he enjoyed taking you on tours of the sets when everyone else had disappeared for the day, but he wanted you to be concentrating on him. 

You felt his kiss become deeper and his hands begin delving down you, then his lips left yours and he kissed your neck, groaning against you and whispered your name. Your hand caressed his cheek and then moved up, feeling the cool surface of the prosthetic skin which covered his brow, and then you laced your fingers in the mane hair, forgetting momentarily that it wasn’t a part of him. 

Behind you and you felt your backside hit something. It was a table. Richard continued kissing you hungrily, his hands slipping up your T-shirt to caress your breasts. Arousal began to wind down your body, resting between your thighs. 

You stopped suddenly and looked at him. “You know you look sexy dressed like that,” you giggled. You gripped the edge of the fur lined leather jacket that he wore as part of the costume, and pulled him closer. 

“I’m going to use it to my advantage,” he replied, raising an eyebrow and grinning. 

“Do the voice on me,” you asked, kissing him softly. “Please.” 

“As you wish,” he replied, his voice growing distinctly deeper and more hoarse. Then he smiled again. “My lady’s needs must be met.” 

His voice heightened the anticipation that was racking you, and he kissed your neck again. You groaned against him, and then felt his hands unbutton your jeans and pull them down. A word slipped off your lips, a word which became lost in translation, being wound in your lust and need for this man before you.

Your hands began tackling the large belt at Richard’s waist; your fumbling made him laugh against your neck. “Patience,” he said, his voice still holding on to Thorin’s character. 

“Stop it, Rich,” you begged. “Just take it off.” You jumped onto the table, your jeans still around your ankles, which you kicked off. “Have I got to give you a striptease before you just let go?” 

“I wouldn’t say no,” he said, grinning again. 

“I hate you sometimes,” you hissed.  

Richard laughed at your impatience as he embraced you and kissed you again, his laugher gradually turning into panting. Your lips never parted as he swiftly pulled the breeches to his costume down and slipped inside you. You moaned loudly upon the impact, delighting in finally feeling him. You wrapped your legs tight around him, keeping him close to you and then you moved, rocking back and forth. It began slow and deep, both of you savouring every delectable movement and sensation. Until even Richard’s impatience won out and you sped up; you thrust back and forth, your arousals building higher and higher, and suddenly you felt that one final wave hit you, bursting through the juncture at your thighs, making your legs shake. 

He dug his head against your neck as he came, the long hair tickling your skin, and he groaned against you, riding out his climax. 

Panting, you pulled apart and smiled at each other. “You do know, we’ll have to do this more often,” you said, placing another delicate kiss against his lips. You never realised that those words would be something Richard held you to. 

Making love on the set became something you did often. Once the main cast and crew had retired for the evening, you would sneak onto various sets, including the Mirkwood forest set, Bard’s house and the inside of Rivendell. It was always when Richard was still in full costume and make up. And he would perform the voice of Thorin, enjoying watching you become weakened by the effects it had on you. 

But your favourite place was on Thorin’s throne. However, the first time you had attempted to make love and Richard had been wearing full armour, of which he had been specially fit into. The armour was fitted tightly around him, giving very little space for any movement. 

You laughed as he looked at you lustfully, sitting on the stone throne. He was waiting to have the costume taken off, and you knew you would greatly enjoy this, teasing and taking advantage of the fact he was turned on. 

You walked towards him, your hand slipping into your jeans. He licked his lips and groaned, watching you slide the jeans down one inch at a time, off your waist and then gradually over your hips. Then you straddled him, the cold of the armour making you jump at first, and then you became comfortable. You kissed him, your eyes never leaving his and your hand began to move inside your underwear. 

Richard remained still, trying to fight the torture of the fact he could not be released from the metal encasing him. All he could do was watch you pleasure yourself, and grimace as you slapped his hand away when he tried to touch you. You kept moving, your fingers in a rhythm, and the waves became stronger, and you kept eye contact with him. 

Richard lost control and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into a kiss and slipping his own fingers into you. He was panting by now, holding you on his lap and watching as the expressions of delight, anticipation and lust washed across your face. Inside the metal and his erection was becoming painful, held down and unable to seek release inside you. And finally as you came, crying out against his chest, he felt the pent up frustration explode. 

“I love you,” he whispered softly, his breaths still short. Then he kissed you. 


	19. Drabble Nineteen

**Imagine Richard finding your anti-depressant medication**

 

Richard couldn’t help but notice a white box in your rubbish bin and reached in, picking it out slowly. His eyes scanned the sticker on the front of the box, stating your name, patient number, GP surgery and the name of the medication, along with a date which was a month prior. Anti-depressants. He knew that name because his cousin had been on them. 

Why had you not told him? That was the first question which raced through his mind. You told him everything; from what you’d had for breakfast that morning, down to your favourite toy you played with as a child. There was nothing you withheld from Richard, your best friend and confidante. Well, there was obviously  _something_  you had decided to withhold from him. 

Were you ashamed of this? Did you not trust him with such information? Or maybe it was something you felt you needed to battle on your own. Whatever the reason for you not telling Richard you were on anti-depressant medication, it hit him hard. It was like a punch to his stomach, deliberate, and with such a force that the pain resonated outwards into his chest. 

He finished making the cups of tea after shoving the medication box back into your rubbish bin. 

You looked up at him as he towered over you, holding two hot mugs of tea. “Thank you, sweet stuff,” you said, smiling at him. He placed both mugs down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. 

Today had been a good day, especially because Richard had come to visit you. You’d motivated yourself enough to have a shower, get dressed and even put a little make up on. Make up always boosted your confidence that one notch higher. “Shall I put the DVD on?” you asked, grabbing your copy of Assassin’s Creed. 

Richard remained quiet, and immediately you sensed something wasn’t quite right. What on earth had happened between here and him making two cups of tea? 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, nudging that little closer to him as he sat down. 

“I don’t even know how to ask you this....” he said softly, his eyes still glued to the floor. Why couldn’t he look at you? 

“I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong?” you asked. That was always your first thought: that you had done something wrong. Whenever someone seemed ‘off’ with you in their general attitude, you automatically assumed that you had spoken or behaved inappropriately. 

“We tell each other everything, angel, and I don’t get why you didn’t tell me about your medication,” Richard replied. Then his gaze shifted and he looked up at you, tears swimming in his eyes. “Maybe I’ve thought too much of our friendship.” 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say to him as you wound your arm into his and placed your head on his shoulder. “I haven’t told anyone about it, not even my parents. You’re the only one now who knows about it. I wanted to try and get help for it and work through it all myself. It’s not the easiest thing to openly talk to people about.” 

“Not even me?” Richard asked, kissing your forehead. “I want to walk through all of this with you.” 

You shifted away from Richard and looked down, feeling the shame and guilt rise in you. Shame for your admissions and guilt for not talking to him about it and upsetting him. “Some days, Richard, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to stay in bed and sleep. On those days I don’t even get up to wash or brush my teeth. Some people think that depression is this thing that can easily be cured, but it’s not like that. A black cloud just descends on you, consuming you. No one else can pull you from it. You’ve got to gain your own strength to get out of the pit. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I trust you more than anyone else.” 

Richard swept you up into his arms. “I never want you to go through battles alone. I’m here with you every step of the way.” 

 

 

 


End file.
